Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 77918 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 390(@200wpm)___ 312(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77918 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 390(@200wpm)___ 312(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
“You off today?” Charles asked.
“Yep.”
“You work at a factory, right?”
“Uh-huh.”
“Do you like it?”
I shrugged because it didn’t matter if I liked it. All it had to do was pay my bills. I didn’t make a whole lot, but I didn’t need a whole lot either, so I was good at making the money stretch. Over the years I’d saved a comfortable little nest egg, which I used for work on the house.
“You really are a man of few words.”
I turned to him with a cocked brow I hoped said, You’re the one who asked for this. When Charles held his hands up and chuckled, I figured my point came across.
“You’re right. My bad. I just… God, I would lose my fucking mind. I thought Emerson was quiet, but he has nothing on you. It’s a good thing I talk enough for both of us. And considering I’m a lawyer, I’m good at getting the information I want.”
“Don’t know what you expect to get from me. I’m not real excitin’.”
“I’ll be the judge of that.” He winked, and I wondered if that got him his way often. I couldn’t pretend he wasn’t charming for those who liked that kind of thing. How often did he turn it on, and people just folded to what he wanted? In a way I had done that too, but it was more because of the brother thing.
“Uh-oh. What’s going on in that head of yours? You’re frowning at me.”
“Just trying to figure you out, is all.” I threw some bacon into my cart, then moved on to the sausage. I loved breakfast foods. They were some of my favorites.
“Eh. I’ve been trying for forty-three years. If you get any answers, let me know.”
So he was five years younger than me. I thought we had to be close in age, though he could probably pass for a little younger, especially if he shaved his beard.
“You’re strange,” I told him.
He beamed. “I’m taking that as a compliment.” A woman and her baby walked by. Charles looked at her. “He says I’m strange.”
Oh, Jesus Christ. Why had he done that? Folks were already going to be curious about him without Charles adding fuel to the fire. “Ignore him, Ms. Lucy.” She worked over at the florist on Main Street. “You have a nice day now.”
She gave a soft chuckle, replied with a thanks, and continued her shopping.
“It’s so cute how you call everyone Miss. Small towns in the South are like living in the past.”
We moved on to the poultry, which he must’ve enjoyed a lot because he grabbed three packages of chicken breasts.
“Just respect, is all. That ain’t something you do in New York?”
“Not to a random person at the grocery store.”
“No one’s really random here.”
“That’s wild,” he replied, with what really sounded like awe in his voice. “This is fun. I told Emerson once that it’s like being in a Stephen King novel—just, ya know, without killer clowns and shit.”
I stood there staring at him. Charles had an ear-to-ear grin. He didn’t look like he was playing around, his expression serious, as though he really was fascinated and enjoyed what was simply everyday life for me. Sure, part of it had to be the novelty of something different, but it still hit me in a weird way that made a laugh fall from my lips. And that shocked me so much, I sucked it back in, clamping my lips together to quiet the sound. I almost turned to look behind me to make sure it had really been me.
It was silly to say I didn’t laugh—everyone did—but this felt different for some reason, more natural and easy. An unexpected laugh felt realer than anything else and was the kind I didn’t have often.
When my gaze caught Charles’s again, he was smiling. “What?” I asked, walking.
“I like making you laugh.”
“You didn’t make me laugh. I did it at you. There’s a difference.”
“I’m pretty sure there’s not, and now you’re making shit up.”
He was right, but I didn’t tell him. This also felt like too much, too close, too…everything. I didn’t know how to do this. Most people didn’t get overwhelmed at the thought of being friends with someone, of walking through the grocery store with them and letting their guard down. Why did I? It hadn’t always been this bad, but the older I got, the more my heart raced in situations like this one, and now it was banging against my chest, threatening to break free.
“I should hurry up and be on my way,” I said, surprised my voice came out as steady as it did. My hands were shaking, and my breathing sped up. These weird attacks didn’t happen to me often, and I was pretty good at covering them up, but Charles was watching me like he could see it, which made my pulse race even more. My throat got tight, breaths short and quick. He seemed to be swaying, but I knew it was my vision and not Charles.